


I'll meet you at the borderlands

by Aurrus



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 8,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurrus/pseuds/Aurrus
Summary: A(n old) drabble collection crossposted from tumblr, featuring Jack, Rhys and Tim and mostly prompts lists for ridiculous sentences and "The ways to say I love you".
Relationships: Handsome Jack & Rhys (Borderlands), Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Not said to me (rhack)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr](https://aurrus.tumblr.com/tagged/borderlands) (mostly, and some apparently never having been posted anywhere at all, or I haven't found where I have put them), so these are pretty old and I apologize in advance for any mistakes I possibly made! And non-bl3 compliant, as you can guess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): not said to me + rhack

Being Handsome Jack’s personal assistant is a tough work, but just like any other job, it comes with its own benefits.

For one, Rhys can at least tell that he knows Jack better than the majority of other people on Helios. He’s under no illusion that it means anything - by the end of the day he still doesn’t know Jack, not in the long run, not like he’d want to, but he does know what to expect of him. Kinda.

And Rhys knows that there are things that Jack will never do and things that he’d never say - to him. Because he’s just an assistant, and it doesn’t matter that others are terrified of him because he works in such a close proximity to Handsome Jack himself; for Jack, he’s little more than an empty space. Rhys is pretty sure that he only cared to actually learn his name because of two reasons: to mock him when he so pleases and to demand another cup of coffee.

Rhys knows it, but still all of his insides lurch and twist almost painfully when he enters Jack’s office with a plastic cup of strong black coffee in hand and the first thing he hears Jack say is a soft, gentle, so much un-Jack-like, “I love you.”

It only takes him a brief moment to notice an echo communicator in Jack’s hand, but in that moment his heart leaps up to his throat and drops right down to his feet, and it doesn’t matter that Rhys knows it wasn’t meant for him, he’s still nearly sick with sudden dizziness of it all.

As he braces himself and walks to give Jack his coffee, ignoring the way Jack scowls at him - this is what he gets - he wishes he never heard how the words sound coming from Jack’s lips.


	2. I wish I meant it (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](https://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): without really meaning it + rhysothy

“I love you,” Rhys says, smiling softly and stroking the sun-kissed skin, his thumb running over the freckled cheekbone; he feels the other smile brightly, beaming at him so happily, before his hand is caught and there’s lips pressing to the center of his palm.

He looks into the heterochromatic eyes, marvels at how warm, how alive and filled with emotion they are; something aches in his chest, and he hides his face in the other’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent as they lie together.

He gets no reply, though, only a sad little chuckle and a gentle kiss on the top of his head; as Timothy hugs him tighter, content, if not as happy as he could be - deserved to be - Rhys hates himself, just a little, for not meaning the words he just said as he wants to.


	3. Whisper (rhack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](https://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): a whisper in the ear + rhack

Handsome Jack was a man of many passions; he was wild, violent and unpredictable, and Rhys knew it would’ve been foolish of him to expect Jack to be different in personal life. He has known the man long enough to know better, after all.

When he got the chance to find out whether he was right or wrong first hand, Rhys wasn’t disappointed to learn that yes, Jack was Jack no matter what. At his office or in bed, he still was wild, restless and dangerous.

Well. Not that Rhys actually feared for his life when he was with Jack; but that was the thing with him - he didn’t need to threaten you to be imposing and deadly, and frankly, Rhys wouldn’t have had it any other way. He knew full well what it was that he was getting himself into.

And yet… there was more to Jack, he realized after a few months of their weird relationship.

Handsome Jack could be cruel and dismissal, sure, but he wasn’t in fact indifferent - at least to those he cared about. Rhys wasn’t sure how he became one of those people, but hey, it’s not like he was going to complain. It meant that he got to enjoy the rare quiet moments with Jack and got to see the side of the man that was hidden from everyone else.

He got to see Jack go silent and thoughtful for hours after having been shouting all day (and then to chattering non-stop again). He got to see the way Jack carelessly threw all of his clothes on the floor except for his old yellow sweater - that Rhys got to see him fold with utmost care, almost lovingly. He got to see Jack stress-baking in the wee hours of morning and cursing at the batter, not pleased with how it turned out, but too tired to throw a fit and throw it away to start anew.

Rhys didn’t know if it was a sign of trust on Jack’s part or if he just didn’t care that he saw him that way - but as long as went on, it didn’t really matter.

Because he also got to feel Jack curl protectively over him at night, holding him close, and whisper into his ear, “I love you”. Barely audible, more of a feeling than a sound, said half-asleep, but still there.


	4. Louder (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): loud, so everyone can hear + rhysothy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An out-of-context piece from my AU where Timothy joined the Children of Helios and Atlas while hiding his face behind the bandit mask and accidentally made friends with Rhys, who at some point ran into him in the common bathroom and saw his face, but didn't get as mad as Timothy expected him to.
> 
> (mind you, this took place years before bl3 so it's far from anything canon-compliant, Atlas is rebuilding on Pandora and Vaughn and the whole gang are there)

Timothy is... something special, Rhys thinks, chuckling as he watches his flustered... lover? Boyfriend? He doesn't even know what they are, but if he's honest, he has no one but himself to blame for that - Timothy made it very clear how he feels about him, and Rhys is the one holding back.

It's just that... there's always something else - he has a company to run now, and resurrecting Atlas is anything but easy; besides, they're on freaking Pandora, filled with bandits and hostile wildlife and all, so it's probably just not the right time for... you know. Romantic endeavors.

At least that's what he says to himself; even so, Rhys doubts that without Timothy there, he would have made it this far, and he's indefinitely lucky that Tim found them and then chose to stay with them - with him.

He probably doesn't deserve him, Rhys thinks with a smile as Tim laughs and turns to look at him from where he's getting wasted at the bar. It was his idea they go out with others - he doesn't like Rhys working so much - but perhaps he's the one who needed it more.

"Hey, Rhys!" he calls out, smiling dopily and waving his hand animatedly; Rhys can see the others smiling as well, because honestly, Tim is adorable. There's something fluttering in his gut, Rhys realizes with a surprise; a warm feeling in his chest--

Before he has a chance to think over this weird feeling further, Tim is rising a clipped glass, grinning at him.

"A toast! I want--a toast to Rhys!" he exclaims, looking over a small crowd wroud them, everyone nodding and rising their own glasses and bottles to cheer. "I want to drink to Rhys--a guy I love," Timothy says, proud and loud and smiling so brightly it hurts, and this time the cheers are louder.

Rhys is used to the cold feeling he gets in moments like this; used to feel embarrassed and ashamed, because honestly, Timothy deserves better than a man who still sees another behind his face. He thinks he'd feel the same now -- only he doesn't, and instead of a cold, nasty guilt there's a warm flush, and he feels his cheeks heat up, his heart clenching tightly in excitement.

"Oh my god," he laughs, making his way to Tim to take his smiling, flushed face in his hands. "I love you, too, you huge dork."

He means it this time, and from the way Tim's eyes widen just a tad bit, from a hint of surprise that quickly changes to impossible joy in them, he knows that Tim can tell it, too.


	5. You annoy me (in the best ways) (rhack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): On a post-it note + rhack

Sometimes Jack wondered how he still haven’t airlocked Rhys. Of all his personal assistants (neither of which lasted longer than a few weeks, couple of months tops), the kid was the most annoying, persistent and stubborn brat.

Well, it might’ve had something to do with the fact that he was also the most efficient yet, by far, but still.

(It absolutely wasn’t because he had a great ass or legs for days, no matter what Rhys himself had to say on the matter. Or anyone else, really - those who spread the nasty rumors and implications met their ends quickly and violently.

So what if the rumors were true; Rhys didn’t get the job, or got to keep it, only because he fucked his boss, Jack would know that).

“Jack, you have a meeting in Robotics in half an hour,” Rhys’s voice reminded him drily over the comm on his table, tearing him from his thoughts.

Yeah. Which brought him to the initial question.

“I know, dammit!” Jack gritted his teeth; it’s been, what, the tenth time for the past fifteen minutes that Rhys told him about the meeting? “I’m not a fucking goldfish, pumpkin, I assure you I can keep that information in my brain!”

“Sure,” Rhys deadpanned, “and when I reminded you ten minutes ago, you said, and I quote, “What the fuck are you talking about". Aaand that’s also coincidentally the meeting that you missed last week, because you turned off your comm and didn’t listen to my ‘nagging’.”

“That was sarcasm,” Jack grumbled, lying shamelessly. So what? He did have a lot to do besides meeting those idiot scientists; there were always codes to improve and new projects to look through, and it was easy to get… distracted.

“Sure,” Rhys repeated again, not impressed. The nerves… “By the way, I’ve got some papers from Finances that I need you to sign,” the last part wasn’t said over the comm as he carelessly opened the doors, finishing the sentence as he approached Jack’s table. Jack rolled his eyes and allowed the stack of of folders to be dropped before him; in retribution, he pinched Rhys’s ass when he turned to leave, and Rhys gave him a half-hearted glare, even though Jack could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

It didn’t take him that long to finish reading through the documents and signing them, but when he made it to the last one, there was a small sticky note on top of it.

“Meeting in Robotics in fifteen minutes”, it read. He cursed, tore it away… and stacked it into his drawer with the rest.

Because that was the thing with Rhys: post-it notes.

Lots of them.

Whenever he knew that Jack stopped listening to him, he would put the stickers up in the least expected places that Jack would somehow end up looking at just at the right time; he didn’t know how he managed it, it must’ve been a superpower or something, but frankly, it was impressive enough to work every damn time.

There would be a note in his wallet reminding him he needed to speak with some head of the department that was on the same floor of the cafeteria he decided to attend; a note on the mirror in the small bathroom that he only used to clean up the blood after killing someone in his office telling him that the next meeting of the day would take place somewhere else while his office was cleaned. It was unsettling as much as it was spectacular - and a bit hilarious.

He had to sit through the meeting that has only been slightly less boring than he expected, making occasional notes on his tablet - a paper tablet, because apparently he had to pay more attention - and doodling something like giant death robots. Once it was over and he turned the page, there was another note waiting for him.

“There is a presentation of the new rifle layout in two hours; I don’t recommend having lunch anywhere in the vicinity of the 38th floor cafeteria - they burned something, and the smell is awful, but if you go to the 41st floor, they have amazing apple tarts today.

PS: love you.”

Jack’s finger hovered over the elevator’s button before picking another one just as he finished reading, a smile (that he would deny to anyone) slowly spreading over his lips.

All things considered, Rhys was… nice to have around.

And really deserved some apple tarts for being that efficient.


	6. Everybody loves cookies (rhack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): when baking chocolate chip cookies + rhack

Jack is a complex man, really, and there’s a lot Rhys wouldn’t even dream of comprehending about him; but one thing that is not amongst them, however, is the simple fact that Jack is stress-baking kind of a man.

And due to him being CEO of Hyperion as well as, well, Handsome Jack, he has to put up with a lot of stress.

Which apparently means a lot of baking.

Rhys is very much on board with it, honestly, because damn, Jack can cook; he probably should be worried about being the one to eat all these baked goodnesses, but it’s so freaking delicious he can’t find it in himself to complain.

If he becomes fat and Jack doesn’t like it, well, it’s his fault and his problems; his cookies are so good Rhys couldn’t care less about his looks.

“I love you,” he croons, nibbling on a still warm cookie straight from the oven, the chocolate chips a little gooey, leaving warm smears on his fingers and lips; Jack chuckles and rolls his eyes as he takes Rhys’s chin in his fingers and leans closer to lick the chocolate from the corner of his mouth. He’s relaxed now, after having made enough dough for at least four dozens of large cookies, and it’s a good look on him.

“Are you talking to me or the cookie, hmm?” he wonders, cocking an eyebrow, and Rhys has to think for a few moments before answering.

“Both,” he admits seriously, shoving more of it in his face and yelps when Jack pinches his thigh. “Wha’! Can’t helph ’s so good!” he protests, batting Jack’s hand away. Leave it to the man to get jealous of his own baking; Rhys gives him a dirty look and moans obscenely around his next bite.

He doesn’t only mean the cookies, of course; but he might actually love Jack a tiny little bit more because of them, to be honest.


	7. I'll be here for you (rhack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): With a shuddering gasp + rhack

For everything that’s being said about him, Jack is… not actually what everyone come to think of him. Sure, there’s a lot of things that are true - he’s unpredictable, wild, often murderous and psychotic, but there’s more to him than that.

Jack is not used to sleeping with someone, for one. It takes a lot of time, and patience, for him to allow Rhys to stay the whole night, and even longer for him to stay in bed as well; the reason behind it is another thing that no one could guess about him: Jack is not as confident as he likes to seem.

He has a lot of nightmares, Rhys finds out after he starts staying over at Jack’s. And it’s not your general nightmares that leave you cranky in the morning - it’s more of a ‘waking you up screaming in the middle of the night’ kind. Jack doesn’t talk about them, but at least he stops kicking Rhys out every time it happens after a while, and after Rhys starts playing along, acting as if nothing happened.

It’s hard to ignore the way Jack looks in these moments, however. Wild, haunted, hurt, scared; everything that Handsome Jack isn’t supposed to be. Rhys wishes he could help, but he has no idea how - has no idea what could make a fearless man so terrified. He probably has his fair share to choose from, though.

Rhys doesn’t expect he’ll ever find out anything more about Jack’s nightmares, but he’s wrong when Jack wakes him up one night, trashing around and screaming, eyes only snapping open after a few minutes of Rhys trying to hold him down, stroking his hair and making soothing noises.

He grabs Rhys’s wrist almost painfully, looking at him with terrified eyes, still not exactly awake–

“I love you,” he says with a shuddering gasp, not blinking and clutching at Rhys tighter, as if he’s afraid that Rhys will disappear the moment he lets go. Rhys gapes at him, mouth going slack from surprise, and Jack’s face twists, pained and so vulnerable Rhys is sure anyone else who’d seen him like this would’ve been shot.

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” he mutters quickly, flexing his fingers and awkwardly shuffling closer. “I love you, too; it’s… okay?”

Jack watches him with a painfully clear disbelief, but eventually his grip loosens, and Rhys immediately hugs him as tightly as he can.

He’s not so sure he wants to know what Jack dreams about; but he sure as hell wants to be here for him whenever he wakes up, and that Jack seems to want that as well means much more than knowing the content of his nightmares.


	8. Ticklish (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): With a shuddering gasp + rhysothy

Timothy is– well.

Timothy is… Rhys is not sure he has words to describe him; he’s not sure such words even exist, and okay, he might not be fair, because he’s comparing Tim to… the other man, and sure enough, nothing comes to mind to describe the contrast he sees.

Still, Tim is writhing beneath him, laughing so hard there’s actual tears running down his face, and Rhys is giggling himself, even though he’s the one who tickles the other man, straddling his waist and mercilessly running his fingers over his sides.

He can’t even remember how it started, what prompted it, but once he found that Tim is so delightfully ticklish and heard him laugh so brightly, he can’t stop.

Rhys knows he has to once Tim’s gasps get a slightly pained note, and he drops down beside him, grinning stupidly and stroking his naked chest gently; Tim turns on his side as well, grasping his flesh hand and stilling it, still heaving from his laughing fit.

“God, I love you,” he blurts out, almost gasps in a shuddering voice, and Rhys blinks, but doesn’t really have a chance to reply, because then Tim’s smile takes on a mischievous note, and he’s suddenly pinned to the bed. “Which is not to say that I don’t crave revenge, though – sorry, love.”


	9. What do the dead people eat (rhack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Ridiculous Sentence Prompts](https://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141736698123/ridiculous-sentence-prompts): “Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” + rhack

Of all the things to come home to, Handsome Jack sitting at his table and munching happily at a bowl of cereal is not one Rhys expected when he entered his appartments early in the morning after what had been a really glorious night at some bar with Vaughn and Yvette.

One thing for sure, though - it certainly got him sober in seconds.

“What the–” he stuttered, nearly stumbling in shock. The man lifted his eyes and gave him an unimpressed look before shrugging at going back to his - well, technically Rhys’s - food, as if it was nothing out of ordinary. As if he belonged there.

Rhys watched him for a few moments and then pinched himself. Hard.

It was painful (try pinching your arm with metal fingers, duh) and most certainly real, which ruled out the possibilities of this being a really weird dream or an alcohol-induced hallucination.

No; Handsome Jack really was in his kitchen. He looked kind of crumpled and disheveled, and his mask was nowhere in sight, his hair a mess that looked nothing like his famous dramatic cut and an uneven stubble covering his cheeks, but if there was a man Rhys would recognize anywhere and in any state, it was him - the infamous CEO of Hyperion.

A deceased CEO, one might add.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he tried again, incredulous. This time, Jack looked annoyed as he pined him down with a hard stare and shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

“Tryin’ to eat,” he muttered. “What, are you blind?”

“I–but you’re dead!”

“If I’m dead, then the afterlife really sucks,” Jack swallowed and grabbed a box of cereal, emptying it into the bowl. He frowned at the pitiful amount that was left; Rhys felt his eyebrows shot up, because he was certain the box was full the previous morning. “Becaue presumably the dead aren’t supposed to get hungry, are they, princess?”

Rhys blinked and scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They are also not supposed to break into their employers appartments!” he hissed, but on the last word his voice broke, and he took a deep breath, running both hands through his messed up hair. “What the fuck. What the– what the actual fuck!”

“Hold it, kiddo,” Jack growled dangerously, but didn’t try to move from his spot. “Do you really think it’s wise to shout at your miraculously revived boss, hmm?”

“But you’re _dead!_ ” Rhys cried again, walking further into the kitchen and falling on the stool opposite from Jack. “How am I supposed to react?!”

“I dunno,” the man stuffed his face once again, but didn’t seem to mind that his mouth was full. “Cries of joy? Tears of happiness? Proclamations of eternal love and gratitude that it was your appartmen I broke into? Promises to make it into a shrine? All of the above? Hell if I know.”

Rhys opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t find the words, so he opted for a glare. This man, his hero, the great Handsome Jack himself, the one and only, that was supposed to be dead - hell, he even mourned him! - was in his kitchen; he simply couldn’t wrap his mind around it. There was no reaction that would be adequate to such situation - at least none Rhys could think of.

“Why are you in my appartment?” he asked instead. Jack gave him a dirty look, scooping the last of cereal from the bottom of the bowl.

“It was the closest one, don’t fall over yourself, princess. Why? Are you actually angry at me?” he tilted his head and smirked; Rhys threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Who wouldn’t be angry, you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” he exclaimed hysterically, feeling a nervous laughter bubble up inside of him. “And I’m the first to know! Just how am I supposed to feel about it?!”

Jack gave him a long, hard look, and hummed softly, rubbing at his chin as Rhys stared at him, biting his lips to keep the hysterical fit at bay. Then he seemed to come to some kind of conclusion and pushed the empty bowl away, grinning at him.

“I don’t give a shit about your feelings, cupcake,” he said slowly. “But if you find me some more food and fresh clothes, I’m sure we could come to a… working arrangment.”


	10. Cat-astrophe (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Ridiculous Sentence Prompts](https://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141736698123/ridiculous-sentence-prompts): “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.” + rhysothy

Living on Pandora was… tough. Rhys was sure that some things he’d never got used to, no matter how long he lived here; unfortunately, waking up at the barest hint of a noise and reaching for the weapon even before he was fully aware of his surroundings was not among these things.

Or, actually, it was quite fortunately, because it was a basic survival skill down here. Granted, he didn’t need to make use of it as often now that they managed to find and tidy up some semblance of town and he had an actual house of his own, but the habit stayed, and so Rhys was up and had a stun baton at the ready mere seconds after he heard some suspicious noise coming from the hallway.

He moved silently, barely breathing, wondering what he might find; when they were still living in a makeshift camp, psychos wandered around every so often, but he had yet to see one here.

Pushing the bedroom door open as quietly as he could, Rhys poked his head out, and after making sure that there was no one in sight, went to inspect the hallway, prowling in the shadows.

Someone was still there, he could hear it - moving around silently, muttering something unintelligible and barely audible under their breath–

Rhys let out a breath and lowered the stun baton, getting an idea of who it might be. Just as he made a first confident step, however, something brushed against his leg - something moving and most certainly not belonging in his home, the sensation sending creeps over his skin. He glanced down and was met with a pair of glowing eyes–

And promptly freaked out, nearly stumbling over the hostile creature, yelling as he tried to prevent his imminent fall and strike the thing with his trusty weapon.

He failed spectacularly at both, landing on his ass gracelessly and only barely managing not to shock himself, the animal darting into the darkness with a hiss. Then there was a sound of steps approaching him hastily, and finally, the light.

“Shit, Rhys, are you alright?” Timothy inquired with his eyes almost comically wide and worried, squatting down to help him up. Rhys grunted and nodded, sitting up and rubbing at the back of his head where he hit it against the floor. “What happened?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I just… heard some noise and went to check it.”

“Sorry,” Timothy pulled him up, immediately running his hands all over him to make sure he was alright. Rhys couldn’t help but smile dopy at him. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Rhys assured him, patting his chest and leaning up for a quick kiss. “I’m not even sure it was you,” he added, growing serious. “There was some creature - I’m not sure what it was, but it hissed at me, and…” he slowed down, noticing how Tim’s expression immediately turned guilty, and narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“I, um…”

Before he could finish, however, Rhys saw a movement in the corner of his eye, and when he turned sharply to look at it, there was…

A cat?

Yep, there was a grey cat coming up to rub its side against Tim’s leg.

Also there was another one sitting in middle of the hallway, looking directly at Rhys.

“Um… Tim?” he asked carefully, glancing at his lover once again. Sure enough, Tim was bright red and avoiding his eyes. “Why are there two cats in our home?..”

Tim took a deep breath.

“I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats,” he blurted out on one breath.

Rhys lifted both eyebrows and sighed. He would’ve been lying if he said that he never expected something like this happening; if anything, he was surprised it took Tim so long to bring a cat home - and honestly, it was a relief that it was a cat that scared him, not a snake or something worse. Oh well, two cats weren’t that–

“Wait, five?!”

Tim ducked his head and looked at him sheepishly; another cat poked its head from around the corner.

Well.

Just one more thing to get used to… he supposed.


	11. The dragon is what (rhack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Ridiculous Sentence Prompts](https://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141736698123/ridiculous-sentence-prompts): “I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.” + rhack

When they first started their… “relationship”, Jack honestly didn’t expect that it would end up like this, with Rhys having practically moved in with him, staying over more nights than he spent at home. It was supposed to be casual fucking, nothing more; but somehow one time turned into two times turned into regular thing turned into fuck-buddies turned into…

Lovers? Boyfriends? Eh, whatever.

So, call it whatever you want, but the fact was, Rhys was sleeping peacefully, sprawled over his chest, hugging him with one arm, and Jack was…

Jack was thoughtful.

The thing was, it wasn’t exactly new, per se - it was just that Jack didn’t think he’d ever get to experience something like this again. The whole relationship thing, the whole… trust thing, because he might be an asshole extraordinaire (he wasn’t delusional about it, mind you, just not apologetic about it), but he did trust his partners. And it’s been a damn long time since he trusted anyone, okay? Or since anyone really trusted him - not ‘was too scared to doubt his words or actions’, but honest to god, blindly trusted him with everything they had.

Which was to say, he could bitch and snark and whine all he wanted about Rhys drooling on his pillows or him during the night, or about him snoring or hogging the blanket to himself (and hogging a second blanket as well, because apparently it was stupid to think that having two separate covers could solve this problem), but but he actually, uh.

Kind of really enjoyed all of those things, because frankly? It was goddamn adorable that the kid felt comfortable enough around him to pull all that shit without any second thoughts.

(Not that Jack would ever admit it, of course; he’d sooner shoot someone in the dick than say anything on the matter that wasn’t complaining about how much he had to put up with.)

As if he could sense Jack thinking too much, Rhys nuzzled into his chest, moving slightly in his sleep, and mumbled something. Jack cocked an eyebrow, watching him curiously; this was new.

“What is it, Rhysie?” he asked softly, a mischievous smile spreading on his lips as he stroked the younger man’s shoulder; Rhys frowned and pouted adorably.

“Jack…” he muttered, and Jack felt his smirk grow wider. So Rhys dreamed of him; well, Jack couldn’t blame him. He wondered what the dream was about, stroking up and running his fingers through the mess of Rhys’s hair.

Was it a fun kind of–

“The dragon is the princess, Jack,” Rhys muttered, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder with a soft sigh and another pout. “Don’t hurt it.”

Jack blinked and oofed as the brat clutched at him tighter, scowling and mumbling something unintelligible, throwing a long leg over his hips in almost possessive sprawl, like a clingy octopus. Jack blinked again, trying to process what he’s just heard, and patted his back.

He tried to let it go; he really did - he could always ask in the morning, but… oh, who he was kidding, it was killing him.

“Rhysie?” he called out, tugging at Rhys’s earlobe lightly. Rhys grumbled in his sleep, and Jack leaned over him, blowing into his ear. “Heeeeeey there, sleepyhead.”

At least that earned him a wince, and Rhys blinked one bleary eye open.

“Wha…”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Jack cheered, sitting up and pulling Rhys into his arms. Rhys tried to protest halfheartedly, but didn’t put up much of a fight, too sleepy for that. “What was that just now, cupcake?”

“Wha… wha’s wha?”

Jack chuckled at his uncomprehending expression.

“You talked in your sleep, dum dum. I just wanted to know what was that dream about.”

Rhys continued to stare at him, clearly not impressed; Jack rolled his eyes.

“I understand the whole sleep talking thing,” he said slowly, “but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.” 

If anything, Rhys only looked more confused; so much for thinking that waking him up in the middle of a dream would guarantee him remembering it. Jack sighed and patted his chest, sliding down the bed again.

“Okay, let’s just go back to sleep,” he said; that seemed to satisfy Rhys, as he nodded drowsily and once again sprawled all over Jack, burrowing his face into his neck.

“The dragon, Jack,” he mumbled with a soft exhale just as Jack closed his eyes. “Don’t marry it, it’s the princess.”

Well, Jack thought with a burst of laughter.

“I won’t,” he said with a laugh; Rhys purred, and he could feel him smile against his skin.

“Oh good,” he said with a contented sigh, and seemed to doze off again.

Too damn adorable, seriously. Although even if Rhys didn’t remember it in the morning, Jack certainly won’t forget it…

Or ever let him live it down.


	12. Acquired taste (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...I literally have no idea where it comes from and I haven't found it on my tumblr either but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> “It’s sticky.” + rhysothy

“It’s... _sticky._ ”

"Well, it's supposed to be," Timothy said, smiling at Rhys. "Come on, have you really never tried it?"

Rhys glared at him a little, and he giggled, shrugging apologetically.

"Do not," Rhys pointed a finger at him, "make fun of me, or I swear to god, Tim..."

"Got it, got it!" Tim threw his hands up placatingly. "It's just... well, sorry, it's just really hard to believe you've never done it before."

"Well I'm sorry," Rhys huffed, affronted. "You know full well I spent the majority of my adulthood working for Hyperion and living on Helios - it didn't exactly leave enough time for me to try things like... this." He absolutely refused to feel embarrassed and turned back to the task at hand, poking the pink flesh curiously. He caught a clear drop of fluid with the tip of his finger and gave it a lick; the taste was... weird, but not exactly unpleasant. He supposed he just needed to get used to it.

"Well?" Tim asked him, watching him intently all the while; Rhys hummed and shrugged. 

"It's... not bad, I guess," he admitted. 

"Come on, you wouldn't know if you like it from something like that," Tim laughed. "You barely even tasted it; I know you can do better."

"Okay, one; stop it," Rhys scowled, sighing dejectedly. "Two, don't look at me like that, or it'll get stuck in my throat."

"You can always spit it out," Tim laughed, and Rhys had half a mind to bite him. See if that would teach him how to laugh at people for being wary about something like that.

He gave one last glare at the slice of some weird fruit on his plate, took a deep breath and brought it to his mouth, taking a mouthful of its juicy flesh - and moaned as the flavor exploded on his tongue. Timothy snickered, the bastard, smug and proud.

"Told you it's delicious," he teased; Rhys kicked him from across the table, hastily stuffing his face.

"Shut up," he muttered around the fruit. "'s not my fault everything here is deadly - it was perfectly reasonable to be worried."


	13. That's not how I meant it (rhysothy, mature)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble lost and found and apparently never having been posted TAT
> 
> “Ow, what was that for?” + rhysothy
> 
> (pls mind that this gets a bit mature-rated!)

“Ow, what was that for?” Rhys yelped, jumping from the impact and turning to glare at guiltily looking Timothy while rubbing at his stinging backside.

"I-uh... sorry," Tim said gingerly, blushing and rubbing at the back of his neck. "It's just--I though you said once you wanted me to, uh... spank you, so..."

Oh. Rhys's eyebrows shot up, and he stared at his boyfriend incredulously. 

"Tim," he took a step closer, putting his flesh hand on Timothy's chest and looking him in the eye. "I didn't exactly mean by it that I want you to sneak up on me and slap my ass when I'm least expecting it."

Timothy looked almost mortified and so guilty Rhys couldn't help but snicker. He cupped his chin in one hand and leaned closer, pecking him on the lips softly.

"What I mean," he whispered, smirking, "is that I want you to throw me onto your lap, pull my pants down and give me a good, hard spanking I deserve."

That earned him a shocked look, but he noticed how Timothy's pupils dilated, and his smirk turned smug.

"I want you to spank me until my ass is red and hot all over," he continued in a low tone, feeling Tim's breath on his lips quicken. "Hard enough that I'd feel it for days after; I want you to spank me until I'm sobbing from it, rutting against your thigh and begging for you to make me come."

"Shit," Tim cursed, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Rhys chuckled and kissed him, moaning as Timothy's arms wrapped around him immediately, pulling him closer as he returned the kiss with fervor. "Are you... are you certain it's alright, though?.."

"Yes," Rhys groaned, pressing their hips together and grinding his growing erection against him. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure I want it. Please, Tim..."

Timothy pulled back slightly, and Rhys sighed, mentally preparing himself for more expressed concerns - it was sweet, really, and he guessed it was better than other way around, but sometimes it was really--

He noticed that Tim had a mischievous grin of his own on his face too late, and the next thing he knew there was a firm resounding smack landing on his ass, making him yelp and jerk in Tim's grasp, involuntary pressing his hips even closer. He hissed from the mix of light pain and pleasure that came from the friction.

"Like that?" Tim asked innocently, pawing at his stinging buttock. 

"Yeah," Rhys moaned, eyelids fluttering, throwing his arms around Tim's neck. "Like that."


	14. Boss's Favorite (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one messes with you and gets away with it.” + rhysothy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An out-of-context piece from my AU where Timothy joined the Children of Helios and Atlas while hiding his face behind the bandit mask and accidentally made friends with Rhys, who at some point ran into him in the common bathroom and saw his face, but didn't get as mad as Timothy expected him to

It takes time to get used to Tim's face, but what settles it for Rhys is the simple and kinda heartbreaking realization that Timothy himself still hasn't.

He doesn't let it show most of the time, but even after that faithful day when Rhys ran into him in the bathroom, he still insists on wearing the mask; and not just around the others, but he's anxious about letting Rhys see as well, and that's - that's just sad.

So it might've taken time to get used to his new friend looking exactly like his fallen idol, but it's nowhere near as long as it takes him to convince Tim to come out to other Children of Helios. Timothy doesn't think that it's a good idea, and at one moment Rhys is almost tempted to let the issue drop - it looks like he's never really got used to seeing Jack's face in the mirror, even after having worn it for years, and after everything that Jack has done... well, suffice to say Tim's discomfort with his looks only increased.

Timothy seems to believe that allowing others to see his face would only remind him of what - whom - he looks like; perhaps it's cruel to condemn him to such fate, but Rhys desperately wants him to come to terms with it and stop hurting. It might take some time, but he's sure that eventually taking off his mask around people will take the opposite effect and show Tim that others can see him for who he is, behind his looks and the face of a tyrant. 

And so Tim reluctantly agrees to give it a try. He's shy, anxious about it, and the first time he shows his face to someone other than Rhys it's Vaughn and Yvette, both already prepared to what they would see. It becomes easier after that (also Vaughn sternly telling his wards that he won't tolerate any of them bullying each other for whatever helps a great deal).

Even so, some days are... tough. 

Rhys comes home to their shared shack to the sight of Tim curled up on the shabby couch, his face hidden by a layered mask; he had a long day, checking information on possible Atlas's encampments, but by the looks of it, Tim's day was worse, so he silently moves closer and plops down beside him, letting out a long sigh.

"Hey," he says softly, poking Timothy's arm; he grunts, acknowledging his presence, but doesn't react otherwise. Rhys frowns. "What's up with the mask, huh?"

"It's nothing," Tim mutters stubbornly; that only makes Rhys's frown deepen, and he reaches to tug at the mask. Timothy jerks away and catches his wrist before Rhys has a chance to touch it. "Don't," he asks in a small voice, and his fingers brush the back of Rhys's hand gently before he lets go.

It breaks Rhys's heart to see his friend like that. He doesn't know what brought it, but he sure as hell wants to find out - and make whoever made Timothy this antsy pay.

"Tim," he tries again. "Talk to me?"

Timothy sighs and shifts on the couch, uncurling a little, and even without seeing his face Rhys can tell that there's a small smile on his lips when he turns to face him.

"There's nothing to talk about," Tim says quietly, shaking his head. "Aaaaand you totally don't have to be all mother-hen around me, Rhys. We already have Vaughn for that, so."

Rhys snorts and rolls his eyes, because yes, he knows that, but he can't really help it - he's... protective of Timothy, perhaps more than he should be (definitely more than makes sense for him to be), and it really irks when something sets him off the wrong way.

"Tim," he says seriously, making sure Tim looks at him - as much as he can be sure with huge goggles hiding half of his face, duh. "You're my friend, okay? No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

There's a pause as Tim processes his words, and then he ducks his head, and Rhys is dying to see his face now, because he's sure there would be a faint blush spreading over his freckled cheekbones, and it always looks so good on him--

"Thanks," Tim says shyly, and chuckles some more, a bit nervously now. "I mean, wow, great to know I'm the boss's favorite, huh?"

Rhys laughs and punches his shoulder playfully, ignoring the way his heart swells at Timothy's heartfelt laugh, because there might just be some truth in his words.

In a way, he's definitely his favorite. Rhys is just not sure in which way yet.


	15. We can have this (rhysothy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "things you said after you kissed me" + rhysothy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me at myself: ???? how tf did I never post so many drabbles on tumblr how did it happen I should've never looked up for the document containing them bc I thought it'd be easier for formatting to copy and paste from there smh

The first time Timothy kissed him, it was spontaneous, unexpected and oh so sweet, and Rhys nearly melted in his arms right where they were standing in the darkened corner of Hub of Heroism, nearly empty at that time of day. They've been meeting like this - dating? - for a while now, and at this point a kiss was very welcome.

But then, of course, Tim was pulling away with a panicked expression on his face.

"Jack will kill me," he blurted out before Rhys could even ask what was wrong. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, clutching at it, face flushed red. He looked remorseful and terrified at the same time, and also a little bit like he was silently screaming on the inside. "Oh god, he will definitely kill me..."

"Wh-why would Jack kill you?" Rhys asked, confused as hell, absently touching his lips with the tips of his fingers; Timothy's eyes followed the gesture, and he quietly, brokenly moaned. 

"Because I can't - I mean, I want to, but I--shit," he nearly whimpered, looking around with despair. "I can't... have a life of my own. I have to be... him."

Rhys smirked and shrugged, taking a step closer.

"Tim," he said softly, slowly, cautiously lifting a hand to press it to the man's chest; Timothy let out a shaky breath and silently met his eyes, but didn't say anything. Rhys took that as an encouragement and moved closer. "If that was the case, he would've stopped us long ago; also... no offence," he smiled almost guiltily, "but literally anyone who sees you knows that you're not him. So his precious reputation is safe."

Timothy didn't look quite convinced, so Rhys wrapped his mechanic arm around his neck and pulled him closer, smirking mischievously. 

"And if I'm wrong and he's going to make us regret it anyway... why not make it worth it, hm?"

"You... really have a point there," Tim admitted reluctantly, the anxious expression slowly giving way to a genuine smile again. He gingerly snaked his arms around Rhys's lithe frame and leaned in. "In for a penny, then?"

"Yeah," Rhys sighed happily against his lips. "Now stop worrying so damn much and fucking kiss me again, or it won't be Jack you'll have to worry about."


	16. What do you see (rhack, violence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack flirts with others; Rhys gets jealous and says that since they're not exclusive, he could do the same.
> 
> Naturally, it's the wrong thing to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possessive behaviour, strangulation, unhealthy relationship, mild violence

The hand at his throat squeezed so hard that Rhys could almost feel his windpipe crushing; it was getting harder to take a breath, and he was feeling lightheaded by the minute, little dark spots dancing in front of his eyes.

Just as his vision began to swim, the hand let go, and Jack yanked at his hair instead, making him gasp, sucking in a much needed air.

"Tell me, cupcake, what do you see?"

Rhys blinked, uncomprehending, struggling to focus. Jack growled in his ear, impatient, and Rhys finally realized that they were standing in front of a tall mirror, Jack's chest pressed to his back and a huge hand curling around his throat, the pressure barely there for now.

The look on Jack's face was somehow both smug and murderous - the snarl he was wearing hinting that there was only one right answer.

"I... See... A mirror?"

Wrong. The hand flexed around his throat, not constricting his airflow yet, but the nails bit into his already bruised skin painfully, and Rhys gasped.

"What do you see in the mirror, Rhysie?" Jack repeated his question, his tone low and dangerous, and Rhys swallowed.

"Um... Us? I see us. You and--you and me."

"How many of me are you seeing?"

"What?" Rhys frowned, confused, and immediately regretted when Jack's scowl darkened. He hastily blabbered again, before Jack decided to strangle him for good for not giving an answer he was waiting for. "Only one! There's... Only one you."

"So that fancy eye of yours is not malfunctioning, then," Jack huffed with a mock relief, knocking on the side of his head with a knuckle. "And you do see the difference, huh?"

His head throbbed from all the yanking around and his heart pounded in his throat - Rhys felt like was going to puke any moment now, and he wouldn't have been surprised if he vomited his own heart with how hard it was beating. Still, he nodded, and Jack hummed, placing his chin on Rhys's flesh shoulder in what could've been a sweet gesture, had it been anyone else.

From Jack, even this small thing screamed possessiveness.

"If your eye is fine and you only see two people, with only one of them being me... How come your stupid head even came up with a question why you can't be doing the same kind of things that I do?"


	17. Every chance I get (rhack, a/b/o + mpreg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The way you said “I love you"](http://aurrus.tumblr.com/post/141568326398/the-way-you-said-i-love-you): Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble + rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An out-of-context piece from an a/b/o soulmate verse that we RP with a friend; simply put, Rhys spent most of his life on suppressants, so he can't distinguish smells as good as he should, and had a very difficult pregnancy (thus Jack's fears)

Rhys wakes with a start, and at first he's not sure what woke him up - it's still ungodly early, and he couldn't have caught more than a couple of hours of sleep, so he's still tired—he always is nowadays, as anyone with a newborn baby would be—but then Jack moans brokenly and thrashes on the bed beside him, and everything clicks into place.

"Hey," he mumbles softly, sitting up to turn on the dim light and reaching for Jack uncertainly. "Jack. Hey. It's—it's just a dream."

Jack's brows draw tighter, face crumbling as Rhys watches, the thin line of his scar pulled into a painfully looking crease on the arch. He feels the dull throb of pain-pain-pain-fear-anguish-panic through the bond and frowns himself, biting his lower lip.

The nightmares are not exactly new, but Jack never lets him in on any of them, and Rhys always feels at a loss, helpless and anxious. He shuffles closer, gently touches Jack's face - presses the tips of his fingers to the disfigured soulmark, and as it starts to glow softly, a tiny lightning cracking Jack's thunderous face, Jack's eyes snap open.

The wild, unseeing look in them should be frightening, and it probably would be - for anyone else. But Rhys feels every minutiae emotion behind it, and there's no danger - Jack isn't going to attack, even when it's usually his first instinct, because he's scared, and he confirms it by a pitiful whine.

And then—he lunges at Rhys, and before Rhys even has a chance to react, to as much as flinch in surprise, he's caught in a bear hug, almost stifling.

"Hey, hey," he wheezes softly, patting Jack's back awkwardly. "It's okay. It was just a—"

"You're okay," Jack whispers, almost like he can't believe it, and then—"Oh, god, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I thought I'd never get the chance to tell you—"

Rhys sucks in a breath and goes still, lets Jack get it all out as he limply lies in his grip and tries to convey the feeling of calmness through the bond. It doesn't come to him naturally, so he has no idea if it works—other omegas and alphas can let out soothing scents when their mate is in distress, but he barely knows the difference between soothing and warning scents himself, so this is a certain no, and he can only pray that the bond would work.

If it does, Jack is doing one hell of a job at hiding it. He's still blabbering nonsense into his neck, breathing in his scent deeply in hungry, desperate gulps of air, shuddering like mad.

"Do you want to go see Angel?" he asks softly some time later, when Jack has stopped shaking and his breathing has evened out somehow. Rhys might not know all the details, but he thinks he has a good idea of what this might've been about — and the way Jack sags in relief against him, breathes another litany of 'i love you's against his neck, pressing fervent kisses against his mark, only seems to confirm it.

"We're both okay," he promises, kissing the top of Jack's head with a sad smile. "We're not going anywhere. And I love you too; so I'm gonna stop you right now if you think that this will give you an excuse not to tell me you love me in the foreseeable future because you've said it so much today—because that would be a mistake, and I love you too much to let you make it."

It's weak as far as distractions go, but it works, and Jack chuckles tiredly against his neck.

"'I'm gonna tell you every chance I get from now on," he mutters, and Rhys snickers, gently prying one of his hands from their clutch on him and entwining their fingers. Jack allows that easily, squeezing them—Rhys' heart flutters in his chest in a compatible echo of the touch.

"I'll hold you to that, you sap."


End file.
